Thunderhead (Arc of a Scythe #2)(41)

Citra, on the other hand, had no idea. She thought she knew everything Constantine was about to say, though—so even as she put on her best Scythe Anastasia listening face, she was already formulating a response.

“While it might be difficult to track your movements, Scythe Anastasia, it is very easy to track the movements of the people you’ve marked for gleaning,” Scythe Constantine said. “Each time one of them contacts you to arrange the time and place of their gleaning, it gives your enemies an easy opportunity to take you out.”

“I’ve been fine so far.”

“Yes,” said Scythe Constantine. “You’ll be fine until the moment you’re not. Which is why I’ve asked High Blade Xenocrates to excuse you from gleaning until the threat is gone.”

This was what Citra thought he’d say, and so she struck back immediately. “Unless I violate one of the Scythe Commandments, not even the High Blade can tell me what I can and can’t do. I am autonomous and above all other law, just like you!”

Her response did not draw Scythe Constantine into a debate, nor did he disagree . . . which troubled Citra.

“Yes, of course,” he said. “I didn’t say you are being forced to stop gleaning, I said you are being excused. Meaning that if you don’t glean, you will not be penalized for falling under quota.”

“Well, in that case,” said Scythe Curie, making it clear that there was no resisting this, “I will suspend gleaning as well.” Then she raised her eyebrows, as if an idea had just occurred to her. “We could go to Endura!” She turned to Scythe Anastasia. “If we’re on a forced vacation from gleaning, why not make it true vacation?”

“An excellent idea!” said Scythe Constantine.

“I don’t need a vacation,” insisted Citra.

“Then think of it as an educational trip!” Scythe Curie said. “Every young scythe should tour the Island of the Enduring Heart. It will give you context, and connection to who we are and why we do what we do. You might even get to meet Supreme Blade Kahlo!”

“You would see the actual heart for which the island is named,” Constantine told her, as if it would entice her. “And the Vault of Relics and Futures—which can’t be visited by just anybody—but I happen to be friendly with Grandslayer Hemingway, of the World Scythe Council. I’ll bet he could arrange a personal tour.”

“I’ve never been inside the vault myself,” said Scythe Curie. “I’ve heard it’s impressive.”

Scythe Anastasia put up her hands. “Stop!” she said. “As tempting as a trip to Endura is, you’re forgetting I still have responsibilities here that I can’t just walk away from. There are still nearly thirty people I’ve already chosen for gleaning. They’ve all been injected with a poison grain that will kill them after a month. That is NOT the way I want to glean them!”

And Scythe Constantine said, “You don’t have to worry about that anymore. They’ve already been gleaned.”

The Thunderhead was, of course, aware of this, but it caught Citra completely by surprise. She heard Constantine say it, but it took a moment for the words to make it through. It registered in her nervous system even before it registered in her mind. She felt her ears getting warm, her throat getting tight.

“What did you say?”

“I said that they’ve already been gleaned. Several other scythes were sent to complete your gleanings, right down to the gentleman you chose yesterday. I assure you everything is in order. ?All their families were granted immunity. ?There are no loose ends to further endanger you.”

Citra began to stutter and bluster, which was very unlike her. She took pride in always being clear and incisive with her words, but this blindsiding tipped her off balance. She turned to Scythe Curie. “Did you know about this?”

“No,” Marie said, “but it makes sense, Anastasia. Once you calm down and think about it, you’ll realize why it had to be done.”

But Citra was miles away from calming down. She thought of the various people whom she had chosen for gleaning. She had promised them that they would have time to wrap up their affairs—that they would be able to choose how and where it would happen. A scythe’s word means everything. It was part of the code of honor Citra swore to uphold. Now all those promises were shattered.

“How could you do that? What gives you the right?”

Now Scythe Constantine raised his voice. He didn’t shout, but his voice had such resonance, it overpowered Citra’s indignation.

“You are far too valuable to the scythedom for us to risk losing you!”

If she was blindsided by his first admission, this one slammed her hard from the other side.

“What?”

Scythe Constantine folded his hands in front of him and smiled, clearly enjoying the moment. “Oh, yes, my dear Scythe Anastasia, you are of great value,” he said. ?“Do you want to know why?” ?Then he leaned closer and spoke just above a whisper. “Because you stir the pot!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Come now, surely you know the effect you’ve been having on the scythedom since you were ordained. You rankle the old guard and frighten the new order. You take scythes who would rather be left to their own self-importance, and force them to pay attention.” He leaned back in his chair. “Nothing pleases me more than to see the scythedom prodded out of complacency. You give me hope for the future.”